


TRADITIONS OF OLD 
EVESHAM TOWNSHIP 



A Paper Read Before the 

Burlington Counly Historical Society 

April 25tK, 1911 



By WILLIAM R. LIPPINCOTT 



Reprinted from the 

MOORESTOWN REPUBLICAN 

19 11 






Gift 
WAR iC 1313 



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TRADITIONS OF OLD 
EVESHAM TOWNSHIP 



'l^HE history of the present is written 
* every day; the local newspaper 
reporters are only too anxious to 
collect all the items of news in different 
neighborhoods for the many newspapers 
now published and daily events as they 
transpire, the doings of the people, 
whether they are spending a summer 
at the seashore or atTmountains or 
touring the country in auomobile? are 
all chronicled and may be found in the 
files of the local papers by the writer 
who wishes to prepare a local history 
of modern times. Go back sixty years, 
and beyond that period many incidents 
occurred that would be of great in- 
terest to the people of the present day, 
but of these we have slight record, 
except in the traditions of the past. 
Before the days of railroads and the 
telegraph, news traveled very slowly 
and the local reporters were mainly the 
school teachers who boarded around^ 
and the shoemakers who went out cat- 
whipping » These were said to have 
been great distributers of news in 
early timesj and from their fireside 
tales many traditions have come down 
to MS, and around these the light of a 
romantic history ever seems to glim- 
mer. 

In my early days a number of elder- 
ly men lived in the neighborhoodj.who 
were familiar with events that occurred 
many years ago, and the tales they used 
to relate sometimes flash across my 
memory even at this late day. I have 
written this article in order that the 
old traditions may not sink entirely 
into oblivion^and having compared them 



with the local history that has been 
written at different periods^ it is safe 
to presume that many of these tradi- 
tions are founded on facts,, and contain 
elements of truth, made perhaps a little 
romantic by the hands of time. 

"Gordons History of New Jersey" 
published in 1834, describes Evesham 
Township' in Burlington County as a 
tract of country fifteen miles in length, 
ten miles in breadth, with an area of 
67,000 acres. The tax raised in the 
Township in 1832 was only $4,226.36 
including State, County and Township 
tax, not enough in these days to build 
a single mile of Macadam road for an 
automobile to run on and the people of 
that period had not even dreamed of 
such a luxury but fully appreciated the 
iwrse as a mode of conveyance and the 
young people of that period rode with 
an ease and grace in the saddle not 
surpassed even in these days of higher 
civilization. 

To show the modes of conveyance that 
acommodated the people of Evesham 
in 1832 (then a very large Township) 
I quote from Gordons History, "there 
were three chaises, one two horse stage, 
forty dearbornes, thirty-nine chairs or 
curricles, eleven gigs or sulkies, and 
two hundred and twenty-one covered 
wagons. ' ' The covered wagons were 
general purpose wagons without 
springs, used to go to mill and to 
market, and to take the family to 
Meeting or Church, when there was no 
dearborne owned by the head of the 
house. The three chaises were no 
doubt elaborate ' for the rich can ride 



in chaises. 'But the dearbomes ; I wish 
I had the pen of Dickens to describe 
them. I think my father must have 
owned one of the forty many years 
after 1832, for away back in memory's 
waste, there is a picture of a carriage 
that we used to ride in about 1848 
that had great wooden springs which 
looked like racks, upon which the body 
was hung with great leather straps ; 
the vehicle had the appearance of an 
immense grasshopper on wheels, the 
only redeeming feature being the fringe 
and trimming in the top, which im- 
pressed me in my youthful days as 
being very beautiful. 

The old Township of Evesham, once 
large enough for a small principality, 
has been shorne of her glory, Medford 
Township was cut from her original 
boundaries in 1847, and in 1872, by 
an act of the Legislature, Mount Laurel 
Township was formed from the re- 
maining part of Evesham, and took 
13,000 acr33 more from the parent 
Township. 

The traditions of this paper are 
mostly confined to Mount Laurel 
Township, though in a few instances 
they may go a little beyond its bord- 
ers. 

Mount Laurel is known through its 
early history as Evesham Mount. 
Neither Gordon's History nor Barber 
and Howe's Historical Collections men- 
tion Mount Laurel. The villiage was 
called Lower Evesham. A school 
house once stood on the East side of 
the Mount, nearly opposite the meeting- 
house; a teacher by the name of 
Hannah Gillingham taught school there 
and admiring the laurel that grew in 
profusion on the hill, said it should be 
called Mount Laurel. Her suggestion 
seemed to meet the approval of the 
neighborhood, and when the Post Office 
was established in the village 



Jan. 13 — 1849 it was called Mount 
Laurel Post Office, and the stage line 
that started to carry the mail to Phila- 
delphia and passed through the towns 
and villages on its route; was called 
the Mount Laurel Stage. Nearly 
fifty years ago the timber on the 
Mount was cut, then a beautiful growth 
of Laurel came up that, gave the hill 
the appearance of a flower garden, 
when the laurel was in bloom, and 
permanently fixed the name of Mount 
Laurej which has been given to the 
village as well as the Mount. 

By a Deed bearing date 10-20- 
1688, and recorded in the Secretary 
of State's Office at Trenton, in Book 
B of Deeds, page 506, William Evans 
became possessed of three hundred 
acres of land in the Township of Eves- 
ham, at a place called Mount Pray. 
Judge Clayton Lippincott, in an account 
written by him of the early settlement 
of Mount Laurel, says, "There may 
have been and no doubt were white 
persons here before WiWiam Evans 
came, and some way wanderer may 
have given the Mount that name, but 
we have no record of it. Since then 
it has gone by the name of Mount 
Evans, Evesham Mount and Mount 
Laurel. " 

George Fox and his companion were 
on a religious visit to Friends in North 
America in 1672 and most likely 
passed over this place in their journey 
from New Castle in the State of Del- 
aware to Middletown, near New York 
City. George Fox says in his Journal, 
"They traveled sometimes a whole 
day without seeing a man or woman, 
house or dwelling place, and their en- 
tertainment was mostly from the In- 
dians who treated them kindly. ' ' 

Although they traveled a long dis- 
tance, there is nothing left on record 
to show to any certainty the route they 



took, but it is the only account we 
have of any persons traveling through 
West Jersey until after the road from 
Burlington to Salem was laid out in 
1682. One thing that seems to 
strengthen the conclusion that George 
Fox and his friends passed over Mount 
Laurel is the fact that a road is men- 
tioned in some papers of an early date 
called the great road running from 
Haddonfield to Mount Holly, it passed 
over the north side of this Mount; it 
was very crooked to avoid hills, 
streams and swamps and the soil gen- 
erally sand, which made it better to 
travel in wet weather. There is no 
doubt but that this road was an old 
Indian trail cleared out and used by 
the public, as there does not seem to 
be any official record of it. Traces 
of this old road may still be seen in the 
woods and on the hill sides. 

William Evans and Elizabeth, his 
wife, came from Wales about 1685. 
They landed at Burlington and walked 
to Mount Laurel, mostly through un- 
broken forests, inhabited only by In- 
dians. Their first habitation was a 
cave to the east of what is now Mount 
Laurel village, near a small, swift- 
flowing stream. 

The fact that the first Friend' s Meet- 
ing held at Mount Laurel was held at 
the house of William Evans in 1694 
is proof that William and Elizabeth 
did not live in the cave until William's 
death in 1728, as stated by one writer ; 
they probably built their log house as 
soon as it could be conveniently done. 

The Indians were very friendly to 
these early settlers and furnished them 
with such provisions as they had for 
moderate compensation, and, the kind 
feeling being reciprocated, it soon be- 
came a flourishing settlement. There 
was an Indian path that started from 
the Delaware River, near where How- 



ard Taylor now lives, and passed over 
the East side of the ridge on which 
Moorestown now stands and over the 
East side of Mount Laurel, thence on 
to the sea shore. This trail was much 
used by the Indians during the summer 
season, and would have made the new 
home of William Evans and his wife 
rather unplesaant if the Indians had 
not been friendly. That part of their 
path between Moorestown and Mount 
Laurel was used as a private road un- 
til 1765, when it was laid out for a pub- 
lic road and used until 1795, when the 
present straight road was laid out. ' ' 
Judge Lippincott's Reminscences. 

Not long ago, at the home of Ezra and 
Marianna Darnell, I was shown the 
Bible that William Evans brought 
with him from Wales, when he settled 
in the cave at Mount Laurel. This 
Bible was printed in 1572, during the 
reign of Queen Elizabeth, and known 
as the Bishop's Bible. The book is in 
a remarkable state of preservation, 
the printing clear and plain, all of the 
leaves appear to be intact; the original 
cover had worn out a number of years 
ago, and been replaced with a new one. 
William Evans died 12-25-1728, and 
probably left this Bible to his son, 
Thomas Evans, who had written this 
inscription upon the fly leaf: — 
"Thomas Evans, his Bible, which I 
give to my sons and grand sons and 
not to be sold but to go from one 
family to another as they may have a 
mind to read in it. Then to return it to 
the oldest son or grandson and to be 
kept in good order." The request of 
the ancestor seems to have been faith- 
fully carried out by the succeeding 
generations of his family. The Bible 
is now in the care of Henry Evans, 
eldest son of Joseph Evans, not long 
since deceased. 

William Evans was evidently a man 



who did justly and loved mercy; he 
treated with the Indians in the spirit 
of truth and justice and not with a 
sword and fire water; no wonder his 
descendants have cherished his memory, 
for he helped to plant the Province of 
West Jersey with liberty and law. We 
have a record of a Friend's Meeting 
being held at his house in 1694, which 
Meeting was probably continued until 
the first Meeting House was built at 
Mount Laurel, about 1698. The old 
part of the present Meeting House was 
built in 1760 and one record says enlar- 
ged in 1790, but the date on the west 
end is 1798. 

On the 10th of the 1st month, 1717, 
William Evans and wife conveyed one 
acre and 32 perches of land to John 
Haines, John Sharp, Frances Austin, 
and Samuel Lippincott trustees 
appointed at a Monthly Meeting of 
Friends, held at Newton in the County 
of Gloucester West New Jersey to be 
held by them in trust, for the benefit, 
use and behoof of the said people, 
called Quakers, at Evesham and there- 
abouts, "and for a place to bury their 
dead." 

Several purchases were made sub- 
sequently. 

Evesham Monthly was established 
by Haddonfield Quarterly Meeting in 
1760, and the preparative Meeting in 
the same year. 

Whoever will take a view of the 
old Meeting House on the north side 
where the ivy grows luxuriantly will 
see that a wing must at some time run 
out at right angles to the present 
building; there is a depression in the 
ground near where this wing must 
have stood which tradition says was 
where an old well was filled up. 

Both the British troops and the 
Colonial Militia are said to have occu- 
pied the old Meeting House at different 



times during the Revolutionary War. 
It is said that the wing that has been 
torn away was used by the British as a 
commissary department for a short 
time. 

From inquiries that I have made of 
very reliable people, in reference to 
these traditions. I have every reason 
to believe them true. There is no 
doubt that when the British left 
Philadelphia and marched to Monmouth 
that a detachment of troops came by 
way of the Great Road spoken of as 
running from Haddonfield to Mount 
Holly, and recalling incidents I re- 
member to have heard some of the old 
people relate, the troops visited the 
houses then standing near their route 
of march, and plundered the inhab- 
itants. There is an incident connected 
with an old brick house on the White 
Horse Road, about one mile Southwest 
of Fellowship, just over the Mount 
Laurel Township line, in Camden 
County. The kitchen part of this old 
mansion is not far from the road as it 
now runs, while the larger part of the 
house, built much more than a hundred 
years ago in the Colonial style, fronts 
what is now the back yard; it is said 
it fronted the road when it was built. 
Whether or not the Great Road passed 
in front of this dwelling I cannot tell, 
but the old part first spoken of was 
standing at the time of the Revolution. 
The British troops came there to 
plunder; an officer ordered a colored 
man, belonging to the place to hold 
his horse while he went into the house, 
the colored man hated the British and 
refused to obey the command, upon 
which the officer drew his sword and 
would have run it through the negro 
if another officer had not prevented 
him. 

The Historical Collections of New 
Jersey, published in 1844, give an ac- 



count of Jonathan Beesley, a Captain 
in the Cumberland County Militia, 
who was mortally wounded by the 
British in the march across New Jersey, 
in June 1778. The Historian writes 
as follows:- "Arduous in the cause, 
and guided by a sense of duty, he paid 
little regard for his personal safety. 
He was in the neighborhod of Haddon- 
field, reconuoitering with two other 
officers, when they were fired upon 
by a party of British, secreted in a 
rye field. He fell mortally wounded 
into their hands. He was conducted 
to the enemy's camp and questioned 
respecting the situation and probable 
movements of Washington's Army, but 
peremptorily refused to give them any 
information. Finding that neither 
entreaties or threats would prevail in 
extorting anything from him to the in- 
jury of his country, the British 
Officer in command ordered his own 
surgeon to attend him, and take proper 
care of him, remarking that so brave 
a man should not be treated with in- 
dignity. The British took him with 
them on their march, and left him at 
a house, owned by Hinchman Haines, 
about half a mile southeast of Mount 
Laurel, where the gallant officer soon 
expired and was buried by the British 
with the honors of war. The house 
referred to was a very old one when I 
first knew it, and stood on ground late 
the property of T. Clark Haines. It 
was torn down about thirty years ago. 
There is a legend that after the 
officer's death occurred at the old 
house, a phantom horseman was seen 
to emerge from it, whose appearance 
always meant death to some of the 
British, if any were in the neighbor- 
hood, but this phantom apparently 
disappeared at the close of the Revolu- 
tion, feeling its mission was ended 
after the country's freedom was 



gained. Not very far above Cox's 
Corner, on the road to Medford, and 
close to the old brick house now owned 
by William Jones, a man was killed 
by the British and buried in the yard, 
but few of the farmhouses on the line 
of their march escaped a visit, and 
at least one detachment of the British 
army must have marched by the Great 
Road from Haddonfield to Mount 
Holly, then on to meet their fate a little 
later upon the field of Monmouth. 

The following account of the Signal 
Code that was established between New 
York and Philadelphia was given to 
me by Edmund Darnell, who when a boy 
assisted his older brother, Charles Dar- 
nell, in operating the signal apparatus 
in the tower erected upon Mount 
Laurel. 

In the early forties a firm of mer- 
chants, known as Wm. C. Bridges & 
Co. conceived the idea of establishing 
a line of signals between New York 
and Philadelphia. This was done by 
erecting signal towers upon the highest 
hills across the State of New Jersey 
between the two cities. The towers 
were built higher than the tallest trees 
growing around them, so that a fair 
view could be obtained. Near the top 
of the tower there was a small room 
for the operator, and in this room 
were the wheels, ropes and pulleys 
that regulated the signals on the top 
of the tower. The signals consisted 
of a long finger, very much like the 
Railroad signals now in use. The 
raising of this finger in a certain 
position was one signal, then it work- 
ed in conjunction with a signal board 
something on the order of a blind 
shutter, the finger and the signal board 
could be placed in many different 
positions, and every position harJ its 
meaning. The signals were started 
at a certain time in the morning, or 



if it happened to be foggy, as soon as 
the mist cleared. The operators were 
furnished with powerful telescopes, 
and copied the signals from whichever 
point they started. If from New York, 
Mount Laurel Station got its signal 
from Arney's Mount, Philadelphia 
took its signal from Mount Laurel. 
If the message started in Philadelphia, 
Mount Laurel got it from the top of 
the Stock Exchange, and the other 
stations all the way to New York 
copied in quick succession. One man in 
the tower looked through the telescope 
and worked the machine that set the 
signals. The other man kept the sig- 
nal code book before him, and noted 
every signal made. The note book was 
submitted to the Inspector, when he 
came round, and operators were held 
responsible for any mistakes they 
made. The signal code was not un- 
derstood by the men who worked the 
machinery. It wastheir duty to copy 
accurately and quickly. Sometimes 
it would take the operators several 
hours during the day, and if business 
was very brisk, different colored lights 
were burned as signals in the night. 
A certain position of the finger told 
the operators when the last dispatch 
had been sent, and they could leave 
the tower. While the operators were 
not supposed to understand the signals 
of the Company, they had signals of 
their own by which they sometimes 
talked to each other. An amusing 
anecodote is told of a Hotel keeper at 
Medford who turned this circumstan- 
ce to his advantage. The Presidential 
election of 1844 was an exciting one, 
and in those days the result of the 
election was for sometime a matter of 
doubt. When the returns from the 
country had to be carried by men on 
horseback, and newspapers did not cir- 
culate as they do now. The Hotel 



keeper above mentioned came to the 
operators of Mount Laurel Signal 
Station and asked if they could in any 
way ascertain how New York State 
had gone. They sent their signals 
over the hills and word soon came back 
that it was pretty certain New York 
had gone Democratic. FHirnished 
with this imformation, the Hotel 
Keeper went home, made a number of 
bets and it was said made a large sum 
of money by obtaining his imformation 
in advance. The signal code worked 
satisfactorily until the invention of 
Morse's Telegraph in 1844, which 
soon led to a telegraph line from New 
York to Philadelphia, and the useful- 
ness of the signal code was at an end. 
The line was discontinued, the teles- 
copes were taken away, the tower 
stood on Mount Laurel until time and 
the elements caused its decay. 

Edmund Darnell endeavored to pre- 
serve the finger and signal board by 
storing them in the loft at Union 
Mills, but they were destroyed by fire 
when the mills were burned. 

It could not have been long after 
the signal code Station was discontin- 
ued that Mount Laurel became the 
rendevous of a class of men quite as 
objectionable to the peaceful, orderly 
and freedom- loving friends of Lower 
Evesham, as the British or the Hes- 
sians. These men were kidnappers 
from the South. In a little house 
now on the farm owned by Charles 
Gardiner, just below the Northerly 
side of the Mount, dwelt a colored man 
named Johnson, with his wife and 
three children. Johnson was a free 
negro, but his wife had not been 
freed. The family worked on the 
farm owned by Edward L. Godfrey at 
the present time. I think at the 
time the incident occurred that I am 
about to relate, it belonged to Dr. 



8 



Page, and was occupied by a tenant. 
The kidnappers watched their oppor- 
tunity from their concealment and 
swooped down upon the poor colored 
woman as she was milking in the 
barnyard of her employer, capturing 
her and her three little children. They 
hurriedly started with them toward 
the South. 

The good Friends around Mount 
Laurel and surrounding country were 
highly excited and indignant at such 
proceedings, and hastily suscribed one 
thousand dollars with which to buy 
the freedom of the colored family and 
restore them to their home. The cap- 
urers had gotten a good start, and 
the question arose, who should be sent 
in pursuit, as the undertaking was a 
very dangerous one, and it required a 
man of nerve to venture across the 
border of the free State on such a 
mission. There was a man, however, 
equal to the occasion. Thomas Haines 
Dudley was raised on a farm not far 
from Mount Laurel, and had left his 
early home to study law. The follow- 
ing account I copied from his bio- 
graphical sketch: — "Disguising him- 
self in the character of a slave trader, 
who were often Northern men from 
the borders, Mr. Dudley procured a 
large broad-brimmed hat, a whip, and 
taking a pair of pistols, he followed 
the track of the fugitives, and was so 
fortunate as to discover them near 
the Head of Elk, in Maryland. He 
gave out that he was from a distant 
part of the country, buying slaves to 
take South. The sale was not accom- 
plished witout its dangers, for presum- 
ing he must have a large sum of 
money with him, he overheard a plot 
to rob him, and sat up all night in a 
hotel, with his pistols before him on 
the table. Keeping up the character 
of a slave trader, he behaved so 



roughly to the woman and child that 
they did not recognize him, and took 
him for what he pretended to be. 
He ordered them to be locked up safe- 
ly until he could take them away in 
the morning. The poor woman, over- 
come with fear, reluctantly followed. 
Making a detour South to deceive the 
kidnappers, it was not until on the 
boat at Wilmington, Del., that he 
asked the poor creature if she did not 
know him, and received for reply-all 
she wanted to. Her fears turned to 
joy when he said, "Don't you remem- 
ber Nancy Dudley's little boy, Tom, 
who used to play pranks upon the 
cows you milked at Evesham, and 
make them kick the pail over?" And 
when he told her she was going home, 
her happiness can be imagihned. The 
price paid for the woman and child, 
sixteen months old, was one hundred 
and fifty dollars. Of the other children, 
a boy and girl, it is said the boy was 
advertised for sale in Baltimore, and 
was bougt by Mr. Dudley for ninety 
dollar before the sale came off. The 
girl was purcased by a lady in Balti- 
more. 

We will now leave Mount Laurel 
and move down the road towards Eves- 
boro. About a mile from the former 
place, we come to two small streams 
of water which cross the road near 
together. In the early days the high 
land along these streams, south of the 
Evesboro Road, must have been a 
famous Indian camping ground. I know 
of no place in the County where so 
many Indian relics have been found. 
The largest collection I ever saw from 
one locality was in the possession of 
the late Waters B. Hurff. When the 
sandy slope above the streams was 
covered with the primeval forests, it 
must have been an ideal place for an 
Indian encampment. These Indians 



must have been friendly with the 
white men, as there are no traditions 
of massacres. As far back as I can 
remember, there was an old Indian, 
called Joel, who came occasionally 
among the white people, and I imagine 
he was one of the last of the Leni 
Lenape Tribes that remained in this 
neighborhood. 

The farm house near Evesboro, now 
owned by Aaron L. Collins, was once 
a hotel, but who dispensed apple 
whiskey to thirsty travelers, on that 
sandy road, I have not been able to 
ascertain. 

Coming down the Churh Road from 
Evesboro, you soon come upon lands 
now owned by Horace Roberts. More 
than a hundred years ago, William 
Stockton, inherited from his father, 
about the year 1780, a large tract of 
land, including with other lands, most 
of Horace Roberts' homestead farm. 
William Stockton deserves mention 
here. He was a large land owner; a 
prominent citizen and business man, 
and I sometimes come across old 
documents to which his name is affixed. 
He was a member of the New Jersey 
Legislature and was appointed to re- 
move the last of the Indians from 
Burlington County in 1802. William 
Stockton sold his plantation in Eves- 
ham to Samuel Roberts, the great 
grandfather of Horace Roberts, in 
1888. 

Passing on to the farm, now owned 
by Charles D. Jones, we have now 
come upon ground where many differ- 
ent scenes have been enacted. This 
place was owned, at the time of the 
Revolution, by a plain Friend, Nathan 
Haines, of Evesham. His tombstone 
is South of where old Coles' Church 
stood in the old ground of Colestown 
Cemetery. There is no military prefix 
to the name on the tombstone, although 



Nathan raised a company of soldiers 
for the Revolution. Nathan was 
opposed to war, and convinced that it 
was at variance with his Quaker prin- 
ciples, no doubt would have lived up 
to his convictions had he been a bache- 
lor, but he was not a bachelor. In 
fact he had his second wife, who 
was formerly Dorcas Pendegrast, she 
came from the West Indies, and at 
the breaking out of the Revolution, 
she had the conviction that a man with 
the wealth and influence of her hus- 
band should b« patriotic enough to use 
his influence for the benefit of his 
country. The convictions of Dorcas 
prevailed. Nathan raised a company, 
and marched with it to Amboy, Uni- 
forms in those days were not plenty 
among the militia and Nathan wore 
his Quaker garb. There is an old 
story that they passed by a place where 
a parrot was in a cage, hanging by 
the roadside. The parrot noticing 
Nathan's dress, called out "Quaker, 
Quaker, a fighting Quaker!" But 
Nathan was not a fighting Quaker. 
He differed in that respect from some 
who went to the Army, who declared, 
"That in the cause of Freedom's Day 
There was a time to fight and pray. ' ' 

Nathan got back home as soon as 
possible, where he was captured by 
the British, and taken by them to 
Haddonfield, but finding there was not 
much harm in him, it is said they 
soon let him go, but took good care to 
plunder his place of everything that 
was, in any way, valuable to them, 
driving off the cattle and horses. 
None of the stock was recovered, ex- 
cepting one fine, spirited horse that 
broke away from its captors, and was 
found the next morning, after the 
British took their departure, standing 
at the farm yard gate. 

Fifty years ago , there was a piece 



10 



of timber standing on land adjoining 
the Nathan Haines Farm, where it 
was said the Haines' family buried 
their silverware and other valuables 
before their place was visited by the 
British. Many years after Nathan 
Haines' death, the farm passed out of 
the Haines family, and came into the 
possession of Allen Jones, who planted 
large peach orchards on it, with great 
success, the fruit grew large and fine, 
and brought the highest market price 
in those days. Horace Roberts' famous 
crops of peaches on the adjoining farm 
seems like history repeating itself in 
that neighborhood. 

Passing on down the Coles' Church 
Road, with cultivated fields on each 
side, you would hardly realize that 
within my recollection the greater 
part of the ground was covered with 
timber until you came to the County 
Line Stream. 

There was an old farm house stand- 
ing on the west side of the Church 
Road, some disance in the woods, at 
that time, to which the British paid a 
visit. Marks of their visit were still 
visible on the framework when the 
house was torn down many years ago. 
The Place is now owned by William 
W. Cook, but the timber that stood 
between the house and the road was 
cut more than fifty years since. Pass- 
ing a little further along the Church 
Road, you will see back in the field on 
the east side, a very ancient looking 
house; it was old sixty years ago. In 
the house tradition says a poor boy 
lived, who was suffering with a dis- 
ease which necessitated the amputation 
of one of his limbs that his life might 
be saved, and money was con- 
tributed by the people of the neigh- 
burhood to pay a skillful surgeon from 
Philadelphia to perform the operation. 
That surgeon was Dr. McClellan, the 



father of Gen. George B. McClellan, 
so well known in the history of the 
late war. Go with me a few hundred 
yards further on, and you will come 
to a house, on the same side of the 
road, the front of this house is stone, 
the remainder of the sructture is 
wood. There is nothing remarkable 
about this construction, but could these 
stones speak, they could tell a most 
inteiesting history. They were once 
a part of the wall of the famous 
"Fountain Hotel" that was situated 
not more than half a mile distant. 
We will walk across the fields in a 
northeasterly direction to the spot, 
we will come to a winding road that 
runs mainly in a northesterly direct- 
ion from the Fellowship Turnpike, 
and crossing the south branch of the 
Pensauken Creek, comes out into the 
Haddonfield Road near the Cemetery. 
Start from the Southwest side of 
the bridge over Pensauken Creek in 
the crooked road and walk to an 
angle where the road turns toward 
the Fellowship Turnpike, and you will 
have passed through the Main Street 
of what was formerly Colestown. It 
is now as quiet and dreary a place as 
Sleepy Hollow, excepting when the 
Italian pickers, who live in a dwel- 
ling recently moved on the site of the 
old town, remind the passer-by that 
ancient Colestown is sharing its honors 
with the remains of the Roman Em- 
pire. But go back one hundred years 
and walk over the same route. West- 
ward from the bridge an immense 
Mill pond, almost a lake, extends 
across the meadows nearly to the 
Church Rord, the water power drives 
a large Saw Mill, and its operation 
gives employment and brings people 
to the place. This pond is saM to 
have been a famous place for skaters, 
and no doubt was a great attraction 



11 



to the boarders at the Fountain Hotel, 
which stood but a short distance away. 
A mineral spring, noted for its health- 
giving qualities, attracted guests to 
this famous hotel a hundred years ago, 
the place was easy of access from 
Philadelphia, and became a great 
summer resort. The chemical con- 
stituents of the water in the spring 
were given in an analysis, made, if 
I have been informed correctly, by S. 
Benezett, M. D., and T. Cutbush, 
Chemist. This analysis, with the 
chemists' names, was chiseled on the 
stone near the spring, but the stone 
has been gone for many years, and 
the spring has entirely disappeared. 
Several dwelling houses helped to 
make up the town. Of these but one 
remains. It is on the Camden County 
side of the stream, not far from the 
bridge, and is fast falling into decay. 
It was once a residence of George Ris- 
don, a noted Justice of the Peace of 
his day, who married many couples 
in this house, and his services were 
so well performed that I have never 
heard of any couples being divorced, 
who were married by him — but times 
have changed. 

The crooked Colestown Road was 
once a part of the stage route from 
Mount Laurel to Camden, and the 
merry blast of the driver's horn has 
many times reached across the hills 
and vales. It is five o'clock in the 
afternoon and the Mount Laurel stage 
coach is coming down the hill on the 
Camden County side of the stream. 
We will get in and ride up to Fellow- 
ship. This village started with fair 
prospects. At one time it contained 
two stores ; five mechanics shops, 
where the tradesmen with their ap- 
prentices pursued their different oc- 
cupations, and for several years a 
boarding school was kept there by 



Samuel Smith, a famous mathematic- 
ian of his day. The first Catholic 
Church in that part of the country 
was erected at Fellowship in 1854, 
and services held in it on Sundays un- 
til a Church was built in Moorestown, 
about 1867. 

The young people of the present gene- 
ration hardly realize how the rural 
population lived up to the time of the 
Civil War. The country was dotted 
all over with small towns and villages; 
each one the center of a small rural 
community, and containing at least 
one store which was often the post 
office, besides the different shops of 
the mechanics, who supplied the re- 
quirements of the neighborhood. Most 
of these small places were connected 
by a stage line with a large town or 
city, the stage driver being the gener- 
al express agent of the community. 

After the close of the war in 1865 
Railroads were rapidly built, connect- 
ing many of the more important towns, 
but leaving many a promising little 
village out in the cold. Fortunate 
indeed were the places that happened 
to be located on the lines of improve- 
ment, for other changes came, detri- 
mental to the villages, distant from 
Railroad Stations. 

The Rural Free Delivery took away 
the post office from the small town, 
and the mail coach that formerly con- 
nected the town with the outside world 
retired from business. The Farmer 
no longer goes to the small village 
for his mail. The store and the 
shops miss him, the little trade of the 
place languishes, no new houses are 
being built, people are moving into 
larger towns located on the main lines 
of travel, and you cannoot help recall- 
ing some of the lines of Goldsmith's 
Deserted Village, - 
"But now the sounds of population 



12 



fail, 
No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the 

gale, 
No busy steps the grass-grown foot 

way tread; 
But all the bloom and flush of life is 

fled." 
We will pass through Fellowship 
and turn toward Moorestown, stopping 
to look at the brick house on the cor- 
ner, occupied by Charles Andrews. 
The date on the northwest end tells us 
the house was built in 1800, and is in 
such a good state of preservation, 
it looks as if it might round out the 
present century. A little furher on 
near the gravel hole is an old house 
that, many years ago, was the resi- 
dence of the last surviving soldier of 
the Revolution, from that neighbor- 
hood. Further on in a field, east of 
Aaron L. Collins' residence (where 
his orchard is now growing) a trial 
was made in the summer of 1853 of 
one of the first mowing machines 
brought into the old Township of 
Evesham. I think the machine was a 
McCormick. It was a heavy, clumsy 
affair in comparison with the mowing 
machines now in use, and was drawn 
by three horses. Many people came 
to see the trial. Mowing Machines 
were very expensive in those days, and 
sometimes two or three farmers would 
own one in partnership. It was sever- 
al years later that they came into 
general use, and cutting the hay crop 
by hand became a thing of the past. 
Harvesting machinery was not popular 
with the working people when first in- 
troduced; it seemed to them like tak- 
ing from the farm hand the labor for 
which he was best paid. 

It might be well to mention some of 
the customs prevailing from early 
times until about 1860. It was the 
practice of the village mechanics to 



take apprentices to teach them trades. 
You found apprentice boys in all the 
shops over the country, for in those 
days there were no manual training 
schools, and the boy was supposed to 
serve five years' apprenticeship to be- 
come expert in his chosen occupation. 
The country boy's indentures mostly 
stipulated that he should be allowed a 
week's harvest every year while serv- 
ing his time. This gave the boy an 
opportunity to earn some money for 
himself and the farmers a chance to 
procure help during an important sea- 
son. The boy considered it a good 
outing to mow or reap all day, to try 
his strength and skill in competition 
with other boys, and dance at night 
with the girls, going from one place 
to another, his week's harvest was 
his summer holiday. The apprentice 
boys required neither physical culture 
nor base ball , nor foot ball to devel- 
ope their muscle or to train them to 
be quick in action, and when the call 
came for men in 1861, some of the 
best soldiers came from the plow and 
the work shop, and 

"Many fell where shrapnel roared and 
bullet sang. " 

At the Columbian Exposition held 
Jn Chicago in 1893, there was among 
the relics exhibited from New Jersey 
an old sickle in good state of preserv- 
ation. This sickle was used by my 
father in the days of his apprentice- 
ship. He was at the time of the Ex- 
position, the only one of a band of 
reapers of former times that had not 
been gathered in the harvest of death. 

The Township of Evesham, describ- 
ed in Gordon's History (embracing 
then the Township of Medford) was 
famous for its deposits of marl. How 
this was dug at one time and v.---d as 
fertilizer will soon be but a memory 
of the past. Any cold winter morn- 



13 



ing in the fifties, when the ground 
was frozen hard, the continuous hoof 
beats of the horses, and the rattle of 
wagons going to the marl diggings for 
their loads could be heard from four 
o'clock in the morning until about 
£ight, then there would be a lull until 
about ten, when the loaded teams 
would begin to return in long lines as 
they happened to fall in together. 
Most of the teams would return in the 
afternoon for the second load, and this 
hauling would be kept up continuously, 
when the roads were good Marl was 
the great fertilizer in the olden time 
in Evesham Tonship. Its judicious 
use, with the fertilizing material of 
the farm, and the application of lime 
at certain periods, kept up the fertili- 
ty of the land, as it was farmed at 
that time. 

We are admonished not to look 
backward, but after all it is comforting 
to remember the time when you would 
raise potatoes with marl, without the 
interference of the bugs; when apples 
grew without spraying; when cows did 
not know about tuberculosis, and 
microbes had not appeared in the milk, 
or if they appeared, were not recog- 
nnized, and the people grew up strong 
and healthy, and took not thought of 
the perplexities that would appear to 
annoy a future generation. But I am 
pausing by the wayside, and will pro- 
ceed on, past Aaron Collins' farm and 
come upon a tract of land that former- 
ly belonged to the Hugg family. They 
were very extensive land owners at 
one time, the old house on the farm, 
now occupied by Eber Haines, was 
built by one of the ancestors of the 
Hugg family and must be one of the 
oldest mansions in the neighborhood. 
I regret that the year of its erection 
could not be ascertained. The first of 
the Hugg family who settled in this 



country came from Castle Ellis, County 
of Wexford, Ireland, in 1683. He 
was a Quaker, who had suffered for 
his principles, and sought the freedom 
of the new world, where he became 
a leading citizen. His grandsons were 
officers in the Revolution and members 
of the family seem to have been very 
prominent in military and civil life 
down to the present time. My first 
recollection is of Richard M. Hugg, 
who lived on Elbow Lane Road, on 
the farm now owned by Frank P. 
Pierson. He was one of the leading 
citizens in the old Township of Eves- 
ham, in my boyhood days, was chosen 
to fill positions of trust and retained 
the respect and confidence of the com- 
munity during his long and useful life. 
One of his sons took an active part in 
raising troops for the Union Army, 
at the commencement of the Civil War 
but died in the early part of the 
struggle for the Union. Another son 
became a surgeon in the Navy, the 
last male descendant of the family, in 
this neighborhood, our lamented towns- 
men, Charles F. Hugg, passed away 
a few years ago. The women in the 
family married prominent citizens, 
and their descendants bid fair to keep 
up the reputation the family has 
maintained for the past two hundred 
years, 

Having made quite a circuit of the 
neighborhood, I must go back to Mount 
Laurel through Chester Township, 
and turning toward Moorestown, will 
take a short cut by way of Prospect 
Avenue, to pass by the house famous 
in the ancient history of the town, 
and rescued from oblivion by my friend, 
John C. Hopkins. I will only stop 
long enough to repeat a verse written 
for another place, but will apply with 
truth to the house on the hill, a vener- 
able landmark. 



14 



"Ancient place preserved so well, 
Thou couldst many a legend tell 
Of the chiefs of ancient fame, 
Who to share thy shelter came. 
Heroes brave, whom duty calls. 
Have gathered in thy spacious halls. 
Patriots, true, with Lafayette 
'Round thy plenteous board have met. 
Here with kindred minds they 

planned 
Rescue for an infant land. 
When the British lions roar 
Echoed 'round our leaguered shore. " 
Passing on up Main Street, I look 
over toward Mount Laurel, across the 
valley southeast of Moorestown. 
Rising high above sea level, it is a 
conspicuous landmark, and can be seen 
for many miles on the other side of 



the Delaware River. The greater 
part of the Mount now belongs to the 
State as a forest reservation, owing to 
the generosity of many citizens of 
Moorestown and vicinity, who subscrib- 
ed half the money, the State paying 
the other half for its purchase, in 
order that the trees growing there on 
might not all be cut at once, and that 
time should not mar the beauty of the 
view. 

The aged love to wander over old 
places connected with early history to 
awaken recollections. The young 
people should be encouraged to take 
an interest in such places to awaken 
feelings of patriotism, to create a 
love of home, and a higher appreciation 
of the blessings we now enjoy. 




I P, sjH'^f ^g; .-^ ,- _ . / 



